Promise
by detective-sweetheart
Summary: As soon as he’d asked, she’d nodded, slipping her hand into his as they walked…a sign that her promise would be kept until circumstances beyond their control finally split them.


A/N: I have too much time on my hands. Anyways...decided to do 'Beginnings' from Bobby's side and somehow it ended up going all the way to 'In the Wee Small Hours', don't ask how, because I don't know. And LOCI isn't mine.

* * *

He'd been startled to find that his latest partner was a woman. But he'd had enough sense not to say anything. He'd worked with women before; they were every bit as capable as he was, and he knew it, even if no one else seemed to. But what had startled him the most about her was that she hardly looked the type to be a cop, much less a cop in a high profile squad such as Major Case. It hardly mattered, though. She'd probably leave sooner than any of the others, and he'd be left without a partner while Deakins tried yet again to get someone to work with him.

He'd lost count of how many partners he'd had over the years since he left Narcotics. Sometimes it's all he can think about. Other times, it hurts to remember. He'd walked out of Deakins' office with her in tow and headed towards the elevators…towards another crime scene. He'd wondered what she was thinking, what she'd already heard about him. And he hoped that she was the type that didn't take stock in any rumors until she'd met the person being talked about. Even so, he knew it was a long shot. Rumors had been floating around about him for years. It hurt, but he did his best to ignore it.

When they'd gotten to their first crime scene, they'd pushed through the crowds, flashing their shields at the uniforms that were already there. When they'd crossed the tape, the younger cops had eyed him with a sense of apprehension. And when they'd thought he wasn't watching, they'd looked at his partner, with something akin to pity on their faces. They felt sorry for her, and he knew why. But just like always, he ignored it and turned to his task at hand…completely missing the look of disbelief on her face as she watched him work.

They'd left once he'd gotten everything there was for him to know, all of it in that leather notebook he's always carrying around. They'd gone back to the squad room in relative silence, he going over his notes and she staring out the windshield at the road ahead of them. He'd wanted to know what she was thinking…wanted her to know that if she didn't want to be there, she didn't have to be. That all she'd have to do was talk to Deakins, and it would be taken care of. That he was used to working alone…even if he didn't like it.

When they'd closed the case about two weeks later, they'd sat at their desks, and she'd leaned back, smiling faintly. She'd stayed. He'd heard her talking to her friends from Vice, knew what they all thought of him, and knew she'd listened. But she'd stayed. That was all that mattered. She'd smiled faintly at him over the paperwork that had appeared on their desks during the case, and he'd smiled back, before turning to his own, and losing himself in concentration. He didn't see her looking at him, didn't see her trying not to laugh at whatever look he happened to be wearing. Didn't see her expression when he suddenly started mumbling to himself, forgetting that she was there.

The next case came along almost as soon as they got up to leave the squad room. She'd looked at him, not at all startled, before reaching for the department's set of keys and walking towards the elevator. He'd followed, notebook in tow, still saying nothing, determined not to scare her off. But he could only keep up this façade of normalcy for so long, and he knew it. Sooner or later, it would wear off, and then she'd be gone. He only hoped that she would get used to him faster than the others, so she would stay a little longer. He'd figured out a long time ago that the time Deakins spent looking for someone to work with him was always longer than the time said person actually spent in the squad.

They repeated the process at this new crime scene the same way they'd done at the first one. There were the same looks of apprehension, the same looks of pity. He didn't notice when she lingered behind him. Didn't notice when she wasn't there to ask the people around the scene if they knew anything. He saw her out of the corner of his eye, just standing there, watching him. And this time, he saw the look of disbelief. He'd looked away before she'd noticed, knowing that after this, it was only a matter of days before she was gone. Before she left, just like all the others.

When they were finally off duty, he went to the first bar he found, determined, however stupidly, to become as drunk as possible, not wanting to see that look anymore. But it was stuck there, a constant reminder of how much of a freak the department thought he was. A reminder of why everyone seemed to want to leave, and why no one had ever wanted to stay. He was walking out before he knew it, stumbling slightly, but still able to keep himself from falling. And then he walked, with no specific destination in mind.

She was still there the next morning. And the morning after that. Before long, he'd lost count of how many days she'd been there, and for once, he felt relieved. He could tell that Deakins was relieved as well; it had been a long while since he'd had to put in yet another request to personnel. He heard people talking in the hallways now, saying how brave she was to have stuck with him for so long, and when he finally found time to look at a calendar, he realized that it had been five years since she'd come to be his partner. Five years since she'd decided to put up with him. And then their latest case had come along.

By the time things went to trial, the judge they were after had already had someone send his mother into a psychotic break. He'd already had someone dig up the shadows of Logan's past. Barek, he'd been able to find nothing on. But Eames…she was on the stand when the revelation from her past came to the light. She'd requested a transfer. He'd remained where he was, startled to realize that this time, he was the one with a look of disbelief on his face. She'd looked close to tears as the defense forced her to read whatever parts had been highlighted of the letter she'd given Deakins after their second case together. She'd said something else afterwards, but he hadn't heard it. She'd wanted to leave. That was the only thing he'd needed to hear.

Outside the courtroom, she'd tried to apologize. But he'd walked away, after telling her that she was right, that he was an acquired taste. He hadn't seen the hurt look that had crossed her face as he turned away. Hadn't seen that she'd been closer to tears then than she had been in the courtroom. Carver's voice drifted towards him as he continued to walk away, but he'd barely heard it. All he could hear was Eames' voice, reading that letter. Five years ago, it wouldn't have hurt as much. Now, it does. And it hurts because she stuck with him so long without saying anything. He'd figured he should have been annoyed with her, and with Deakins, for not saying anything, either, but he wasn't. Being upset was different than being annoyed. This definitely fell into the former category.

That night he'd pulled the same stunt he'd pulled the night of their second case…getting so drunk that he could hardly remember his own name, let alone stand. He hadn't said anything to anyone in the past few hours since court had been adjourned for the day. And he didn't want to, either. But sooner or later, he knew he'd have to face her. They still worked together. If she'd wanted to leave again after this, he wouldn't have been surprised. Things had become so skewered because of what this judge had done that afterwards, he'd find himself surprised that the squad had made it out alive…figuratively speaking, of course.

The hand on his shoulder that night was what startled him out of his thoughts. And when he'd turned, she'd seen him there, red-faced in the light and looking miserable. He'd done that to her. He'd done it by walking away without letting her finish, and he hated himself now more than ever because of it. But she said nothing. Instead, she'd waited until he'd risen to his feet, and then they'd walked out together, just like they'd done in different situations, many a time before. He'd wondered why she'd come. But it wasn't until they were outside that she spoke.

"I'm not going to leave you." Her words had startled him, more than she herself had when she'd first come along. He'd stared at her, half because he couldn't really concentrate on anything else, and half because he'd been unwilling to believe what he'd heard.

"What?" She'd looked at him for a long moment after that question before hugging him, hiding her face in his shirt in an effort to hide the tears that were starting to come to her eyes again. She'd done this to him…driven him to this point. And she'd hated it, hated it because it had taken her so long to find out what his biggest fear really was. Hated it because it wasn't until after she'd seen his face while reading the letter that she'd known…because she'd been afraid herself that something like that would change their partnership forever.

"I'm not going to leave you." Her voice had been muffled by the fabric that her face was buried in, but he'd heard her clearly. And he'd moved back slightly, so that he'd be able to look into her eyes.

"Promise?" The question had startled him. He'd never really been one to ask anyone to promise anything, but this…this was different. He'd needed to know that she really wasn't going to leave.

And she'd nodded. As soon as he'd asked, she'd nodded, slipping her hand into his own as they walked…a sign that her promise would be kept until circumstances beyond anything they could control finally split them.


End file.
